During the sixteenth century a symbiotic relationship developed between the form, use, and symbolic associations of the Venetian portego, the central reception and entertainment hall of Venetian palaces, and the paintings that were increasingly commissioned to ornament these spaces. The intended placement of the paintings affected their size, format, composition, subject matter, and contemporary interpretation. At the same time, the works of art themselves reflected upon and helped to define the social meanings of the space and the activities taking place there. Analyzing documentary sources and surviving paintings reveals the degree to which we can speak of the quadro da portego as a distinctive type of Venetian painting.

The fresco cycle painted at the behest of Pope Sixtus IV in the late 1470s in the main ward of the hospital of Santo Spirito in Rome comprises an extended pictorial biography of Sixtus, prefaced by scenes representing the legendary foundation of the hospital by his predecessor Innocent III. The legend, which tells how Innocent established Santo Spirito as a foundling hospital in response to the discovery of victims of infanticide in the Tiber River, positions the pope as the savior of the city's unwanted children. This article elucidates how the construction and renovatio of the hospital is presented in the cycle as a generative product of papal will, with the care of foundlings situated as an integral part of the image of the pope as both Father of the Church and restorer of past glory to the city of Rome. While the frescoes engage with both widespread conventions for representing infanticide and commonplace notions of the social value of caring for abandoned children, I demonstrate that the ideologically potent visual rhetoric of foundling care was also flexible, and could be adapted to meet the specific needs of a particular institutional and patronal context.

This article sets forth, through a small collection of case studies, the extent to which the literal and pictorial figures of the Beati moderni constituted potentially provocative and disputed hermeneutical territory between particular religious constituencies, in this case the Oratorians and the Jesuits, and an increasingly stringent Curia ca. 1600. A reexamination of Beati moderni hagiographic imagery, and curial censorship of such imagery, potentially problematizes scholarly assumptions that these images served the Counter-Reformation Church's demands to control the meaning of religious images and the cult of the saints. Such reassessment calls for the reevaluation of a newly-constituted, uniquely post-Tridentine genre of hagiographic imagery: the Beati moderni devotional altar image and its reproductive printed devotional derivatives.

One of the key episodes of Michel de Montaigne's trip to Rome (1580–81) was his visit to the Vatican Library, which he comments upon in his Journal de voyage, posthumously published. Strangely enough, few scholars have paid close attention to what Montaigne says about the selection of manuscripts and printed material he consulted there on 6 March 1581. He claims that he was given free access to that Wunderkammer, and scholarly research shows that his wish list indeed reflected his taste for irony, humor, and cultural diversity, ranging from Greco-Roman manuscripts to Egyptian papyrus and a Chinese booklet. At the same time, a case could be made for interpreting the selection, not as Montaigne's, but as the library custodian's, with Aquinas's sermons, anti-Lutheran material, and documents used at the Council of Trent. This paper tries to sort out to what extent the selection of books and items that Montaigne saw at the Vatican Library can be considered as the meeting ground between the interests of Montaigne himself as skeptic and the agenda of the Counter-Reformation.